


A journalist's escapades

by Dottieunderwood



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Listen I just love them with all my heart, pharmercy at 5am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dottieunderwood/pseuds/Dottieunderwood
Summary: Angela Ziegler, a journalist that finds corporate companies and makeup a very ridiculous thing is tasked to get an interview with one fareeha amari, a young woman that's inherited a successful worldwide makeup brand. Things ensue.





	A journalist's escapades

You had your hair up in a high ponytail along with a silver headpiece matching your slightly glittery silver dress. One that hugged your body in all the right places. You've heard what people say about amari after all, and you.. were in the mood to mess around. Some people in your field of work liked to stay in the sidelines silent as ever as they took the needed information and disappeared. Angela Ziegler ? You barged in like you owned the whole world and every single thing in it. It wasn't the smartest choice or the safest one, quite the opposite really but it was effective. Whatever gets the job done.  
You strode in the unfamiliar apartment, glass walls overlooked the never-ending New York sky scrapers and the pretty stars cursed to mirror our instead horrid planet. You sighed and scanned the place, crowded with the richest and wilthiest bourgeoise scum in the wretched city of course. Bringing people like that down was your most treasured hobby.  
You licked your lips as you planned your next moves.  
-  
It was really overrated. You never quite understood the hype around makeup in the industry. Although it was very useful and pretty it's expense was genuinely bewildering and you thought it was unnecessary. Which is pretty ironic considering you were a journalist in an after party for the launch of a worldwide brand's liquid lipsticks. Your job sometimes forcefully made you acknowledge the complete foolishness humans have to endure. You might've had a heated argument with your boss about the ridiculousness of coming here as well.. But hey- free food, gorgeous women and getting dirt on corporate companies. _What more could a girl want ?_  
One woman in particular caught your eyes, a brooding but very social looking figure in a copper and green outfit that brought out her brown eyes. _Okay, so maybe one thing. _you small talk your way through the crowds, your eyes catching hers across the room a few times while you simultaneously try to find amari to get the interview over with.__  
-  
Two drinks, a snack and an hour and twenty minutes later and you still couldn't get your hands on her for the damn interview to finally go back to your sweet comfy hotel bed. So you give in to the fact that you're going to be here a long long time and call the bartender for another drink. "So can you by any chance point to me ms fareeha amari ? if I don't find that woman by the end of the night I might just have to set foot in the snake pits they call fashion shows" you groan and scrunch up your brows at the reaction that gets from him. Someone clears their throat behind you, "careful now, that sounds dangerous. You were looking for me ?"  
You're about to snap at whoever was nosy and irritating enough to make that comment only to meet the beautiful eyes from before. _Shit._ (But not really)  
You laugh and wonder if your night could get any more ironic. The Egyptian woman invites herself to the seat in front of you, "I'll have what she's having if you may" she speaks to the wide eyed bartender. You stare in both astonishment and slight embarrassment at the stunning lady across you. Distinctive features, not unlike her mother. "You've got your mother's wittiness, you know that ?" It's silent for a minute before she turns her seat towards you completely. Crossed legs and a raised chin, not defiant- maybe a force of habit. Pride. It's clear you've hit a sore spot, so you lean back more comfortably and place your chin on your hand, "her beauty too"  
the barely visible shade of pink that covers her cheeks pleases you a great deal, and that angel like chuckle makes your tummy twist. "For a stranger, you're full of surprises. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you though it is apparent you know me, may I ?" You straighten up, "Of course, how crass of me. Angela Ziegler, journalist." She sips her drink before reaching her hand out to shake yours. It lingers.. and her fingers are soft. "And how do you know my mother ?" There's almost a biting tone there.  "I've interviewed her a few times. Which happens to be why I'm here today. Would now be an awful time to ask you to do a teeny tiny one ? I promise no trickiness either, just your simple usual questions" she agrees but only with the condition of a changed scenery and quieter place.  
-  
The bench you decided to plop on for the interview is very scratchy and uncomfortable, and the wide hallway isn't exactly the best place to have it in either but it's much better than the other options and you've both gotten comfortable with each other throughout the short duration of the interview, little longer than necessary touches and stares included, and you're rounding the last corner when something just clicks and you decide to maybe play around a little. You asked about her favorite shade which she was apparently wearing, and it sparks an idea. "So just one last thing," she tilts her head and nods for you to go on "I think I wanna test the efficiency of your product." Her eyes crinkle up and she bites her bottom lip, "yeah? How so?" You can't help but follow the motion and when you look back up you find her eyes twinkling in mischief, no doubt knowing it'll get that exact reaction from you and it sends a wave of courage through you. "I heard your lipstick was kiss resistant- care to prove it?" She laughs a silky raspy laugh that rings through the hallway and grips your chin with her long nail polish coated nails. "Sure thing, darling" she whispers with that same voice, just octaves lower and a tad hotter before placing her lips on yours eagerly.

____

 

____

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betad and written at 5am so excuse the mess.


End file.
